Impressionist
by saketini
Summary: Canonverse, March 1922. America throws a series of progressively louder parties in an attempt to catch an uninvited but very much wanted guest's attention. Canada calls him out on his behavior and somebody ends up floating in the pool. UKUS/USUK UST, platonic AmeCan/CanAme, implied one-sided Franada.


_March 1922 ~_

"Are you hoping he will show up?"

"Who?"

"You know who. You're being terribly obvious."

America huffed in response to his brother's busybody behavior and tucked his chin back against his knees. Canada knelt beside him, sitting cross-legged on the cool tiles by the water feature that fed fresh water into the pools that wrapped around the patio in a crescent shape.

"It's cold even by my standards out here by the water. It's the middle of March. Why are you even out here?"

"Because I want to be," he refused to sniffle. That would only give Canada a point, "besides, I can't be waiting on anyone if everyone I invited is here," he turned a shining grin at his brother.

Canada sighed. America counted it as a point for himself. Besides, everyone he had invited _was_ here. He had sent the invitations via telegram this time, delighting in the chance to use the device outside of war again. It was faster than the old fashioned letters he used to receive and more physical than the crackling noises heard across the phone lines.

"Why don't you invite him?"

"Why are you interrogating me?"

"Because you throw your fourth party this month only to spend your time outside on this stupid dock looking at some stupid pond all by your stupid self. You don't do anything quietly or on your own without it turning into a mess."

"Shut up, yes I do. Everyone else is a mess. I'm doing just fine by myself. Besides, it's better than what those guys do over the ocean whenever they get together."

"So why throw the damn party?"

"Shut up," okay so maybe he did sniffle. And maybe it was cold. But France was being grabby in there and Russia had been weird ever since his Bolshi-bullshi-whatever thing a few years back and he wasn't - _no, stop it. _

"I just felt like some air," he shuffled closer to his twin, refusing to lean against the other first because then he would only be making it obvious that he was cold, "It's not that cold. You're just being a wimp."

Canada sighed again - _two points! _- and leaned against America's shoulder, touching their heads together so their respective curls bumped.

"Yes, such a wimp. Please help me, oh hero."

"Of course!" America grinned delightedly as he got what he wanted and grabbed his brother's hand, "anything for you, neighbor!"

A snort at that - _half a point?_

"Have you two spoken at all?"

"Who?"

"Don't start," Canada squeezed his hand, "have you spoken at all since the the armistice?"

"We talked a little after -"

"You disappeared together a little after. It's been three and a half years. You were obviously avoiding each other at Versailles and you've been acting oddly ever since."

"It was awkw- He told me I was being stupid."

"_I_ tell you when you're being stupid. I just did."

"Yeah, but, you're my brother."

"Wasn't he?"

"Not really," that sniffle was from the cold that definitely wasn't all that bad because he was warm and definitely not a wimp, "besides, I never actually called him that and he didn't like it. He wouldn't even tell me why he thought it was stupid. Never said it straight either. He's so stuffy, grumpy, fussy and..." he trailed off absentmindedly and sniffled again.

"What about?"

"A boot?"

"Shut up," Canada laughed softly anyway, "what abo- what did he say was stupid?"

"You're definitely acting like the law now. You can't exactly have me arrested for the liquor in there. They would kick me back out."

"_America._"

"Things," Canada squeezed his hand again to nudge him along, "you know I don't like how they do things."

"The war?"

"Well that too."

"Maybe it will be the last. It hasn't happened since and you're doing quite well for yourself anyway," the frames of their glasses clicked as Canada bopped their heads together slightly to emphasize his point.

"But what they did to Germany -"

"Is how they do things over there."

"It doesn't make it right."

"Who made you the world's moral authority? I hope you don't keep that attitude up," America laughed in response.

"There're going to be fireworks later. You should watch them with me. Russia was going to but he's been mad at me for the last few years so... you know... besides! We should do more things together."

Canada sighed and moved his head to turn and look America in the eye, "fine, okay."

America could see the back of the home from the corner of his eye, the pieces of their impromptu polo match still strewn across the back lawn leading up to the pools. A pair of guests - he didn't care to identify if they were normal people or nations - were ducking not-so-subtly towards the shaded tennis courts. It was only the third week of March and it really was his fourth party of the month. _We deserve a good time when everything is going so swell, right? I mean, the Europeans need more time relaxing and less plotting wars. Germany's just been weird and France still has that awful cough from the gas too. _

The Frenchman in question could be heard laughing from the back veranda, the doors had been thrown open to allow the guests to spill out onto the lawn and see the soon-to-be-definitely-the-best-they'd-ever-seen fireworks. They were way better than last week's fireworks. These were going to be red, white, and blue. Eng-

"Maybe we should skip the blue."

"Hmm?"

"Just do red and white fireworks. We share those."

"Umm?"

"You're right, it wouldn't work. They would get grumpy if I tried to change it again."

_They're not the same. They look way better on my flag than his. I have _stars.

America planted his chin firmly back on his knees and felt his brother bump his head against his own again.

"America?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you call him your brother anymore?"

"You're my bother," _duh._

"You're allowed more than one, you know."

America refused to allow himself to grumble, choosing to bump his knees against Canada's in retaliation.

"You don't call him that either."

"I know. I never did."

"You never?"

France's well-shined shoes could be heard clicking on the tiles that led to the fountains.

"Darlings! Why are you still out here? _Canada_, warm up inside with big brother!"

"Might as well," Canada sighed, "I don't want him to come out here and have the cold make his cough worse. Are you coming?"

"I want... I'll come in later. I have to make my grand entrance last minute, you know?"

"Okay, find me before the fireworks and we'll watch together, eh?"

America let their hands slip apart as Canada stood but refused to allow himself to turn and watch him leave. _Totally won that one and the fireworks are gonna be the best. _ _He's going to be sorry he didn't come. I always went to his stupid parties. I'll spend time with Canada and my friends and he'll be jealous and lonely and stupid and he's the stupid one and I don't...I don't like his stupid face and he was such a _jerk._ Why would he touch...and then just...? _America sniffled again and pressed his eyes against his knees. It was definitely the cold.

France had returned to fetch America as well, apparently, the click of European shoes returning could be heard on the tiles.

"You'd better not be groping my brother in there," he grumbled without lifting his head and heard uncomfortable sputtering in response. _Wait._

"I would _never -_ what even gave you that idea, America, I haven't the slightest idea but I - he is my _colony _and that is simply -" _Shit._

America stood up too quickly in his panic and stumbled over his own feet. Unfortunately, his own shiny new shoes were still too smooth and unworn at the bottom to offer him any useful traction, and he fell headfirst into the pool by his side. The last thing he heard before his hearing was muffled by the water in his ears was the shattering of what was likely one of his very expensive imported glasses as it was tossed to the ground in a panic.

_A highball, probably. He always gets gin and tonic. Now I have to get another so I'm not stuck with an odd number._

A blurry yellow and green blob appeared above the water's surface. From where he was, he could hear noises that vaguely sounded like muffled English shouting before they were silenced by a sudden bang and England fell into the water in shock. Red, white, and blue fireworks exploded to life in the sky above, colors smeared like the paintings of one France's impressionists.

_Shit. Worst pirate ever. Best navy my ass. He can't swim, can he?_

America kicked off his shoes and snatched the thrashing man around the waist, shoving his socked feet against the pool bottom to push them both upwards.

"Ha!" he shouted as they broke the surface, England still sputtering, "how was that for a heroic -"

"_Amérique! Angleterre!" _

"Frog! Did you plan this?!"

England, propelled by anger, shoved out of America's arms to clamber onto the ladder at the pool's side to launch himself at the panicked Frenchman.

"'Go outside, there's something you need to see.' What?! The bloody fireworks?!"

France fled back into the house, followed by a sodden and stomping England. America turned his head at the sound of soft laugher above him.

"I liked these fireworks better than last week's," Canada smiled down at his twin, still treading water, and offered him his hand.

"Oh, shut up," America took his hand anyway.

* * *

_Gin and tonics are usually served in highball or rocks glasses. _

_"Wimp," btw, was first used around the 1920s. _

_Did you notice what novel I shamelessly pilfered ideas from? Probably. I was pretty ham-handed about the whole thing._

_As for the twins, I love them. I adore the fact that Canada calls America out on his nonsense. All my love for you, Canada! Especially whatever bit is responsible for Tim Hortons in real life. Bless that and bless you. _


End file.
